


You Stole My Heart...And My Guns

by Written_On_The_Trees



Series: The Trees' October 2020 Writing Challenge [9]
Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Batman Fusion, Chris is Red Hood, F/M, I don't know how to tag this, October Prompt Challenge, Original Character is Catwoman, Prompt Fic, Tim Skold Is Batman, but he doesn't actually appear in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26919727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Written_On_The_Trees/pseuds/Written_On_The_Trees
Summary: Day 9 of my 31 October Writing Prompts. Prompt:Thief.As the Red Hood, Chris isn't surprised to find Catwoman waiting for him inside his apartment. As her fuck-buddy, he isn't surprised when they end up having sex. And, sadly, as someone who wants to be her friend, he isn't surprised that he wakes up to find her gone.
Relationships: Chris "Motionless" Cerulli/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Trees' October 2020 Writing Challenge [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949572
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	You Stole My Heart...And My Guns

Chris looked around the apartment with narrowed eyes.

Something was…wrong.

He couldn’t put his finger on what, exactly, but something about his apartment was not the same as it had been when he left it last night to go on patrol last night. He might not know what had happened, but something had, and just that was enough to make him go for his for one the guns strapped to his legs.

It could be Ricky, just fucking with him, or Angelo visiting to try and talk him into taking a break, it could even be Skold, on yet another mission to try and curb Chris’s lethal crime fighting methods…or it could be any number of the Gotham Rogues, come to try and kill him as revenge for whichever one of their henchmen he’d put in the ground _(or the riverbed)_ this week. Chris didn’t really care – either way, they were going to get shot at.

They better hope that they were wearing Kevlar.

Listening carefully, Chris heard the sound of someone in the kitchen area, quietly tapping their heels against the cabinets under the counter. It wasn’t the loudest sound, but it was still obvious that they weren’t trying to hide their presence. That would normally make Chris assume that it was Ricky or Angelo, but he still left the safety off on the gun as he crept towards the kitchen.

Better safe than sorry…for him, anyway.

“Hello, handsome.”

Chris groaned in frustration, shoving the gun back into its holster and raising the other hand to cover his eyes.

_Of course it’s Fallon. Of fucking course it is._

Fallon Anosova, also known as Catwoman, was an old ally/adversary/fuck-buddy - Chris knew her well. He hadn’t heard from her in months - but it still made perfect sense that she’d drop into one of his safe houses unannounced and at completely at random, just to fuck with him. That was just the way Fallon was - she was an _arsehole_.

And she was also one of the best jewel thieves _(and general thieves)_ Chris had ever met, one who usually didn’t do anything with some sort of self-centered motivation…

Which begged the question of why she was in his apartment.

It was a question Chris wasn’t likely to get an answer to, not until she was ready…so he instead of trying, he just went with the irritation he was feeling over having his safehouse broken into: “Seriously, Catwoman?”

“What, you too good to use my name now, Cerulli?”

Chris rolled his eyes: “Wasn’t sure I remembered it; I haven’t seen you in that long.”

Fallon sneered: “I am _extremely_ memorable.”

“ _Sure_ you are.”

“Fine, fuck you then.”

Fallon slid off of the kitchen counter, rolling her eyes and heading towards the window she’d come in through without another word. Clearly he’d pricked her pride - which was weird, because normally she was just as ready as he was to make jabs at each other. She’d never really taken offence to his chatting shit to her before - _she didn’t even take offence when he shot at her when they were working opposite sides of a job or case_ \- but tonight she seemed really pissed off.

More than that, she seemed hurt. Her shoulders were a little too stiff for just anger; she was upset.

Chris never liked upsetting Fallon.

It wasn’t out of fear for what she would do - Fallon wasn’t petty, at least not with him - but because he genuinely felt guilty when it happened. It was like upsetting Angelo or Balz, whenever he did it, he felt like a piece of shit.

So of course he reached out to stop her: snagging her hand in his so he could simultaneously pull her back into the room with him and spin her around to face him, until their chests were pressed together and he could wrap his arms around her waist.

“You are literally the most memorable woman I’ve ever met - including all the ones who have tried to kill me.”

Fallon grumbled, but she relaxed in his arms: “Yeah I am. I’m fucking amazing.”

“Gotham’s finest.” Chris nodded, smiling where she couldn’t see him.

This was a lot more like the Fallon he was used to.

Full of cockiness and a lot easier to be around without feeling like he’d been sucker-punched in the gut. He liked her a lot better when she was wearing her usual _‘fuck-you-I’m-better-than-you-smirk’_. Especially since it usually ended in the _‘fuck-you’_ part becoming literal.

_And thinking of…_

“So…did you miss me while you were away?” Chris murmured against Fallon’s hair, slowly starting to sway slightly from side to side, as if they were dancing.

Fallon let him, so he knew she was willing to play along, even though her voice was entirely neutral: “I suppose…”

“Get up to anything interesting?”

“Oh, like you wouldn’t believe.” Fallon replied darkly, making Chris wonder if something had happened that had made her to quick to get pissed off earlier, but talking wasn’t really their thing - and before he could work out whether or not it would be a good idea to add it to their repertoire, Fallon was leaning back to smirk at him: “But don’t worry, it’s nothing your daddy is going to come after me for.”

Chris rolled his eyes: “He’s always going after you - mostly because you’re supposed to be in Blackgate, serving out a thirty-year sentence.”

“But that’s so _dull_. I’d rather be out of jail and here in Gotham. Specifically, in your bed.”

Fallon smiled salaciously, and Chris was more than on board with that suggestion.

There was absolutely still the matter of what had happened while she was away - Chris and Fallon might not be the biggest talkers, using falling into the position of fuck-buddies or work allies when they were on good terms, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t be friendly too. Just because they hadn’t done it before didn’t mean they couldn’t start. Especially since…well…Chris wouldn’t exactly mind if he and Fallon were more than fuck-buddies.

It was pretty hard to remember why he thought that, when her hands were sliding under his jacket, reaching for the buckles on his holsters, all while she was looking at him with a sultry look in her eyes, eyes that were darkened with lust, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want to.

He resolved to ask her about it the next morning - after they’d finished fucking.

Of course, Chris knew all too well that good intentions didn’t always get to play out the way he wanted them to. When he woke up the next morning, he woke up alone in bed - and in the apartment, Fallon long gone.

Along with several of his more heavy-duty guns.

Chris wanted to be annoyed, both at not getting the chance to check that she was okay and over having a chunk of his weapons cache stolen…but, if he was being honest with himself, then he had to acknowledge that this was exactly the kind of shit he would pull. And unlike him, Fallon had at least had the decency to leave a note owning up to her theft:

**_Needed a few things from your armory. I was going to say sorry, but despite how good the sex was you were still a dick last night, so now I’m not. See you round, Chris._ **

**_\- Fallon._ **

Chris rolled his eyes, before grabbing his helmet and heading out of the door.

He’d catch up with Fallon at some point - and when he did, they _would_ be having a chat: first about what had happened while she was away, then second about her stealing his guns. And, if she hadn’t kicked him in the face by that might, Chris might just push his luck by asking her if maybe she wanted to go on a date at some point. Until then…

…This was Gotham. There was always another criminal to shoot in the knees. Or head.

And Chris was the man to do it.


End file.
